Defying Gravity
by xmichiru-chanx
Summary: Fuji Syuusuke was an idol...who went against all odds. He remained in the painstaking, blood shedding industry just for the 'thrill' of it. That is, until a certain manager came along, who went against Newton's Law of Universal Gravitation. AU.
1. Stage: Prelude

**A/N:**** Okay, I decided to just wing it and have no OC's (at least for the main characters). Soooo...tell me what you think, please! And please, please, please no flamies...boohoo...teehee. And, this chapter will be really short compared to the others-probablyyyy. **

**Disclaimer:**** I do NOT own POT. VERY SADLY.**

**Warning:**** If you are the type that does not like it when authors make it an AU fic, or change the genders of the characters, I deeply apologize if I have offended or angered any of you in any way with this story.**

**"Idol"**

* * *

"That's it! Fuji-kun-this way, this way! Alright…hold it! Great pose! Now, turn around-that's it, that's it!"

Blinding lights.

_Flash. _

Noisy chatter of bustling staff.

_Flash._

Pose after pose after pose.

_Flash. _

The brunette leaned forward, sliding his hand lower towards his knee.

"Good job!"

_Flash. _

Fuji shrugged. One more last picture wouldn't hurt…for now.

"Alright, the photo shoot is over. Thanks for the work!"

* * *

"Fuji-kun, please, _please_ don't scare away this one."

Fuji's smile never wavered as he continued to beam at the exasperated man in front of him. The man blanched, and sunk deeper into his black leather chair. He raised a slightly calloused hand to rub his forehead, a sea of threatening wrinkles.

Fuji fought the urge to roll his eyes. They were obviously only trying to 'help' him with a manager because that would roll even more money into their already-bulging wallets.

He was sixteen years old, ethereal with his feminine looks and delicate features. He was a god-like being to many, and, inevitably, was treated like one.

Ever since he'd debuted with his talent as an idol at the age of five, he was considered a prodigy in the entertainment world. His life was filled to the brim with luxury; his wish was _everyone__s_ command.

He was pleased at that prospect, in the very least. Just one pout from his perfectly-shaped lips, and an entire crew of people could be cut off from this business.

It didn't matter that his parents never had time for him; no, not at all.

It didn't matter that everyone else spat at him in the industry-they were jealous of his superiority.

It didn't matter. That was it.

The only reason he kept up this little 'fancy' of his was because he loved the thrill.

The screaming fans, confessing their undying love for him.

The little exhilarating feel of having everyone's fates in the palm of his unscathed hand.

The feeling of being out there, and knowing that he was a national icon, and knowing that everyone else knew that he knew he was invaluable.

Yes, the thrill of it all was what kept him up there, posing one stupid figure after another.

A confident knock snapped Fuji's head towards the oak doors. The man before him brightened considerably, and he sat up straight in his chair.

"Yes, come in! Come in, come in, come _in,"_ he muttered.

The door swung wide open, unlike the other times when it was opened halfway with a frustratingly shy face peeking in.

And Fuji very nearly gaped at the girl who sashayed in.

She was his height, with a perfect figure, curved in all the right places. Her emerald hair reached just above her elbows, silkily bouncing off her shoulders. Golden eyes pierced through Fuji's gaze, a smirk forming on the delicate lips.

But it wasn't her looks that entranced her-he'd met many beautiful girls before. No doubt about that.

But it was the air with which she carried herself, and the overwhelming aura that surrounded her. It had a soothing affect.

Enchanting.

Her movements looked like she was dancing. Each step was gracefully made, with no unnecessary movements.

The girl turned to look him directly in the eyes. Fuji fought back a shiver.

"Fuji-kun, meet Echizen Ryoma. Your new manager."


	2. Stage One: Pilot

**A/N:** **Why hello! School has just been stressing me out sooo much-but joy! Summer break is coming soon. Then I can upload all I want!! And I've been having insecurities about this story...its my first FujixRyo story...so...ehehe...Please go easy on me! Remember to hit the review button on the way out! **

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own PoT.**

* * *

_The girl turned to look him directly in the eyes. Fuji fought back a shiver._

_"Fuji-kun, meet Echizen Ryoma. Your new manager."_

**"Stage One-Pilot"**

Fuji stared with apparent distaste at the girl

And the fact that she continued to smirk at him annoyed him the most. How dare she.

At most, she looked to be around fifteen-or was it fourteen? She wouldn't be a capable manager-much less a manager for Japan's no. 1 pop idol.

This was blasphemy.

"She's fifteen." Fuji stated bluntly, staring coolly at the owner of the record company, whom had begun to smile a wry smile.

"So? You're sixteen," the girl answered before the man could open his lips. She smirked.

Fuji raised a challenging brow towards the 'insolent' girl. A faint trace of a smirk graced his lips. Apparently, this girl didn't understand stardom.

"I'm a tensai."

The girl's smirk grew wider.

"I'm a prodigy."

This caught Fuji off guard. Who would be as foolish as to actually compliment themselves before anybody else does?

"Saa-then it's a deal. Fuji-kun, Ryoma-san is your manager from now on. Now, good day, I have much work to do."

The man ushered the two out of his room-which was a smart decision, for when Fuji got upset, it got _bad._

-

Once outside the room, Fuji blew out some air, fanning his bangs. Ryoma looked bemused, ready for long rant; child stars had a tendency to act like spoiled brats. But when Fuji whipped out a serene and angelic smile, he caught Ryoma off guard.

"Wh-what?" she hissed.

"Nothing," Fuji smiled, and slid his black sunglasses on cleanly, briskly walking past Ryoma.

Ryoma gazed, smiling, at Fuji's retreating back. So cliché. Child Star Trait # 2: Walk away when things don't go your way. That way, you keep your cool and your pride, and you can look cool doing it.

However, it wouldn't work as easily as Fuji wanted it, she was sure of that.

She wasn't called a prodigy for nothing. After all, she _was_ the person who'd become a professional at fourteen, and then pulling three bands to the top of Japan's best within a year.

Of course, she'd left all of them eventually-always claiming that she'd only 'help people find their wings.' She wouldn't become a hovering helicopter that helped them keep flight. Only the stairway that led them to the sky.

That, she'd decided years ago, was the greatest manager.

After all, if they didn't have the talent to stay in flight by themselves, Ryoma wouldn't have helped them in the first place.

Satisfied, Ryoma went to wait in one of the chairs provided for waiting guests outside the room.

-

And, exactly as she had predicted, Fuji came marching back a good five minutes later to see Ryoma sitting, poised and perfect, on one of the waiting-seats in front of the office. One fist supported her head, held atop one of the arms of the chair. A smug smile was painted across her lips.

Fuji's smile was still intact, although an intent killing aura had began to circle the boy.

"Where…is my car?"

"Your…car?" Ryoma asked innocently.

The sleek, precious black Porsche had been deposited in the rear parking grounds, just in case. Like she said; she was a professional. Ryoma uncrossed her arms, and Fuji spotted on her thin wrist a silver charm bracelet…with an extra large charm on the end.

In the shape of a car key.

"Is this what you're looking for?"

Fuji's eyes snapped open as he stuck his hand in a moment of horror into his coat's pocket…the car key was gone as well.

"You little thief…"

"Why, whatever are you talking about? I am your manager-remember? It's the manager who drives-except I don't have any intent on going to jail at this age, so I hired a driver. Now come on," Ryoma chirped.

Seeing Fuji's anger boiling on his face, Ryoma smiled lightly, closing one eye shut. She turned around, and began walking in the opposite direction.

A few feet away, she whirled around, upper body leaned forward. She smiled, her mouth parting open slightly, and laughed a tiny, bell-like chime.

"Hurry up-else you'll be late for your photo shoot, ya know?"

Fuji stared for a few minutes at Ryoma's smile.

It was unlike anything he'd seen before…it was a real smile. It was unlike those fake smiles given to him by suck-up staff. It was unlike the crazy grins he'd received when another one of his concerts made millions of dollars.

It was…pretty…

…But not that Fuji cared.

It didn't matter to Fuji that this girl had a pretty smile. He'd seen girls with _beautiful _smiles. He wouldn't be caught off guard by this fox. She was probably trying to coyly trap him, and then crush him.

He wouldn't become another has-been because of some psychopathic loony.

He was a tensai. He couldn't lose-that in itself went against Newton's law. No, he wouldn't succumb to the darkness. He wouldn't become anorexic, he wouldn't start losing his hair, and he certainly wouldn't elope with some vixen he'd met off the streets.

But he'd go along with the play that she'd fabricated…for now.

At least, until he'd gotten his revenge.

Allowing himself a small smirk, Fuji slipped on his sunglasses once more, and walked lightly towards Ryoma, and the two exited the building.

* * *

**Preview of Chapter 3:**

_Fuji frowned._

_He pouted._

_ This wasn't right._

_No matter what he did, Ryoma didn't even give him a second glance._

* * *


End file.
